He broke away from her angrily. "You don't know what you're saying. If Paulus hadn't won!"
The raucous cries of a newsboy from the street interrupted him. They both listened, then Rupert smiled.
"Forgive me, it's ripping of you to think of father and all that. I know it'll knock the old man sideways: he'll be awfully sick about it. But I've got one more chance, and now I can afford to take it. If I hadn't won this money I couldn't have. I should have had to go home and stop there, shut up in that crumbling hole in the midst of those beastly moors. But I'll try again and, by gad! I'll win. I swear I'll pass next 'go.' It was the worry of thinking of the beastly money which upset me this time."
Another newsboy ran shrieking down the street.
"Result of the great race. Sensational result! All the winners—Sensation——"
Rupert moved towards the door. "Let's get a paper and see the starting price."
Ruby followed him. "Wait a moment, Rupert. Tell me honestly, how much you would have owed if Paulus hadn't won?"
"Oh, I don't know. What does it matter now?" he cried carelessly. "A hundred or two, I think. What does it matter now? I can go on working until I pass. And I'll send the guv'nor that last fiver he posted me, old Crichton's cheque. Those brutes at Post Bridge Hall are absolutely rolling in money, but, by gad! they shall see we've got some, too. Come on, let's get a paper."
Smiling at his excitement Ruby followed him out of the room. From the doorstep they beckoned to a passing newsboy, who thrust a paper into Rupert's hands. Chucking him sixpence Rupert made his way upstairs again. He opened the paper in the sitting-room, and Ruby bent over his shoulder.
"Well?" she said.